


I can’t believe I fell for you

by Rungreenierun



Category: Hamilton - Fandom, Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: Christmas, Christmas AU, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, lams modern au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 10:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5493680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rungreenierun/pseuds/Rungreenierun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John was busy thinking about mistletoes and not being kissed under them, when suddenly something fell from the sky and landed in the bushes in front of his window with a dull thud. Was that-</p><p>A body? </p><p>Impossible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can’t believe I fell for you

John sat in the windowsill with his arms wrapped around his knees. The snowflakes whirled down slowly, and every now and then, one stuck to the window. Then he leaned closer, with his nose against the glass, to study the pattern. Sometimes they looked like cylinders, sometimes like detailed triangles, and most often they reminded him of fallen stars.  
In the corner of his small apartment stood a Christmas tree. It was far too big for the room: a couple of branches hung partly over the couch, the top was bent underneath the ceiling and baubles dangled dangerously close to the refrigerator door. John had given in to the charm of the pine tree when he had first seen it at the market, without thinking about the consequences. 

John was busy thinking about mistletoes and not being kissed under them, when suddenly something fell from the sky and landed in the bushes in front of his window. Was that...  
A body?  
Impossible.  
John jumped off the windowsill. He snatched his coat from the rack in the hallway, stuffed his keys in his pocket and went outside. The snow crunched beneath his shoes as he walked around the facade to the side of the apartment block. He cautiously approached the bushes where the thing –trash? furniture? person?- had fallen into. He saw the lights in his Christmas tree flickering cheerfully through the window. 

“Uh, is someone there?”

“Hnggh.”

That certainly was a someone. John didn’t know if he wanted to find out what kind of someone it was. The victim or the criminal?  
His curiosity reinforced his instinct to help people in trouble, so he went closer to the stranger.  
A hand stuck out of the branches and leaves. John took it and effortlessly pulled him out of the shrub. A man appeared, covered in snow, taxus yew and-

“Are those… Christmas lights?”

The man nodded, seemingly a bit ashamed. John only now recognised him; it was Alexander Hamilton, his upstairs neighbour. He hadn’t had the chance to talk a lot with him, because Alexander was always busy with his work. According to John, he had to be a writer or something similar, regarding all the boxes of paper the man left behind in the entrance hall. 

“Jesus, man. Are you alright?” John asked worriedly. He carefully brushed some leaves off of Alexander’s shoulder. “That was quite the fall.”

Alexander nodded again, but he simultaneously rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey, you’re John Laurens, right? From 1B.”

“Just Laurens is fine.”

“I’m okay, Laurens. I was just putting up some Christmas lights outside my window, hence this.” Alexander lifted his arms and the wires wrapped around his body moved along. 

John suppressed a laugh. “I see. It’s like 1 am, though. Nobody hangs up Christmas lights at 1 am.”

“Nobody comes to help a stranger out of the bushes at 1 am, either,” Alexander said almost triumphantly. 

“Touché. Let’s go inside.”

John opened the front door of their building and Alexander followed him into the hall. They wished each other a good evening/night/morning and turned around to go their own way. John wiped his shoes on the doormat while he retrieved his key and put it in the lock, fingers red and shaking from the cold. Behind him, he heard a heavy sigh.  
Alexander stood with his head bent and shoulders dropped in front of the stairs. He held his hands in front of his face, making the lights swing back and forth on his arms.  
John asked him what was wrong, but he didn’t understand the mumbled answer. He lay his hand on Alexander’s back, which was wet and cold due to the snow, and asked him again.  
Alexander looked up, his face illuminated by the faint light in the hallway. For the first time, John noticed the colour of his eyes. Dark brown, like wood on fire. Strangely enough, it seemed indeed like Alexander Hamilton was burning inside. 

“My key is upstairs.”

Now it was John’s turn to sigh. “And you don’t have a spare one?”

Alexander shook his head. His dispiritedness turned into despair. “What do I have to do now?” he said dramatically. “I’m wet, I’m cold, my hair is full of taxus, I locked myself out and the Christmas lights are all tied up. Do you know how long it takes to take them apart? Do you know, Laurens?”

“Very long,” John said calmly.

“Precisely. Precisely! And it already took me an hour to untangle these, because I couldn’t fall asleep, again, and I was bored. I still have a box upstairs, full of these damn things. A box full!”

“Alexander.”

“I’m going to mail Aaron and tell him that he can do the party at his house. Let’s see how well his place is decorated. I bet he has lights that blink in different patterns, or in different colours. God, that would be such an Aaron Burr thing to do. "Look how my lights shine in different colours!" Applause, Burr, sir, looks like you’ve accomplished at least one thing in your life! Can you believe that-”

“Alex.”

Alexander stopped talking and looked at him, startled. 

“You can crash at my place.”

“But-”

John rolled his eyes, grabbed Alexander’s hand and pulled him along into his apartment. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it as he watched Alexander inspect the living room slash dining room slash kitchen. His new friend held halt every once in a while to study something up close, like a photograph on the refrigerator, a book on the arm of the couch, or a shirt that had gotten lost on its way to the laundry basket. He seemed particularly interested in the Christmas tree in the corner. He tapped a red bauble experimentally.

John’s reflexes liberated him from his dazing thoughts about how attractive Alexander looked even with wires all over him, and he hurried over to the corner of the room.  
Just as he put both of his hands on Alexander’s hips to turn him around, the decoration piece fell. The glass sounded sharp against the wooden floor as it splattered apart.  
But neither John nor Alexander paid any attention to it. They were both too busy trying to understand the new situation.  
John’s hands on Alexander’s hips. John’s thumb dangerous on a piece of skin between Alexander’s shirt and the edge of his pants. Their hearts beating fast. Their breaths hurried.  
John swallowed arduously and was about to take a step back, when Alexander closed the unbearable distance between them. Alexander hesitated at first, tentatively brushing his nose against John’s, the two of them breathing in the same air. John noticed he smelled of coffee and fatigue. 

Then, Alexander connected their lips tenderly. He kissed like he hadn’t been kissed in a long time.  
It felt so unbelievably right that John couldn’t do anything else than wrap his arms around Alexander’s neck, pull him closer, lean his body against him. The lights that still hung all over Alexander pricked in John’s chest, but it still wasn’t close enough. The taste of coffee and sleepless nights stuck to Alexander’s lips; soft, dedicated, helpless.  
When Alexander pulled back first, John followed the movement a little longer, searching for the certainty of the touch. The lights in the tree sparkled in Alexander’s dark eyes as he stared at him longingly. 

“Damn, John Laurens,” Alexander said, a little out of breath. The melting snow trickled down his face. John wiped a drop away with his thumb. 

“I noticed you like coffee.”

“I practically live on coffee.”

“Let’s make two cups, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Bonjour fellow Hamiltrash. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this small fic!  
> Admittedly, English isn't my native language, so it's possible that I made some mistakes. Make sure to let me know about them!
> 
> Enjoy the rest of your stay in Hamilhell, I've been saving a seat for you.
> 
> Based on Tumblr user Bravenry's genius Christmas au list


End file.
